Boys in black pyjamas
by MissEclipse
Summary: Vietnam era. Face is having a bad day in the field. Can a certain dinky dau pilot help him get his head back in the game? Reviews welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**[_The A-Team is still the red-hot property of Stephen J Cannell (RIP)_]**

**[Timeline: 1969]**

**Chapter 1: Leading by example**

The blistering sun was beating down relentlessly on First Lieutenant Templeton Peck, as he led a 12-man reconnaissance patrol deep within enemy-controlled territory. He was the first guy leading the point team which consisted of himself and four Montagnards. Their mission was very simple – search out and destroy the enemy, whilst gathering any INTEL on their travels.

The unofficial (everyone in his team knew he was really only 19) 22-year old's handsome features were set in a determined, grim expression as he concentrated intently on the terrain around him. His senses tingled instinctively, eyes open to any untoward movement, ears alert to every sound.

Taking point was inevitably a death sentence for any soldier and Peck had endured more than his fair share of becoming a target during his first three months assignment to the 5th Special Forces (Airborne) Division.

His CO, Colonel John Smith (known to his men as simply Hannibal), often rotated the point man, but there was no doubt in his mind that the young Lieutenant was the best man for the job. He would always turn to him in an emergency situation. He was the best God-damn sniper in the whole unit and had a knack of knowing when the shit was about to hit the fan!

Sometimes the kid would volunteer off his own back to be point man, which made Hannibal wonder if he had some kind of death wish. There was no doubt that he was one of life's chancers, always pushing the boundaries to the extreme. Trouble seemed to follow him around, but thanks to his winning personality and endearing smile, he always seemed to talk his way out of it! He had been dubbed "Face" by the team's resident pilot, Captain HM Murdock, and it summed up the lieutenant perfectly.

In fact, Hannibal could see a younger version of himself in Face. Except Face was more out of control and that worried Hannibal. It was like he didn't care what happened to himself or maybe he just thought nobody-else gave a monkey's toss about him.

They were making their way towards the rendezvous LZ, having spent the last 4 hours humping through rice paddies, jungles and valleys without any sign of unfriendlies. As they headed up into the mountain, vigilantly searching the surrounding area and the valley below for any movement, one of the Montagnards stepped on a trip wire. Face gasped in horror as he saw the poor guy disappear in a cloud of smoke.

Face rushed to the stricken Yard but the two lifeless eyes staring back at him confirmed his initial fear that the VC had claimed another victim. Face bit back his nausea as he realised that part of the Yard's leg had been blown off in the explosion. Remembering Hannibal's strict rule about never leaving a man behind, he pulled him up, with the assistance of another Yard. Face knew they were now in a very vulnerable position as the explosion was sure to have alerted the VC as to their location.

It was at that point that a barrage of bullets from the enemy AK-47 rifles, somewhere from the jungle to the east of the valley, rained around them. The other two Montagnards in the point team immediately opened fire with their M-16 semi-automatic rifles, firing randomly into the jungle, forcing the enemy to withdraw – if not temporarily.

Face and the assisting Yard dragged the dead body along between them towards a massive 2,000 pound bomb crater embedded deep in the valley floor. They all dived in quickly, as they were met with another round of enemy fire, this time coming from somewhere in front of them.

Hannibal and the RTO were a short distance behind Face and were flanked by three other Yards, who quickly opened fire on the VC as they also made a dash for the crater.

Sargent BA Baracus and 2nd Lt Ray Brenner took up the rear and following the lead of the others, ran towards the crater with their guns blazing. They quickly established that the VC were shooting from another crater about 200 yards ahead of them, which meant they were pinned down by the enemy from the north and east locations.

As they jumped into the crater they found Face attempting to help two of the Yards, who unfortunately had been shot during the firefight. His face was ashen white and his hands were shaking as he tried to stem the flow of blood that was surging from their wounds. 2nd Lt Brenner, who also doubled as first aid officer, knelt down beside him and helped him with the two casualties. They looked bad – one had been hit in the chest and another in the back. Ray didn't fancy their chances much, but judging by the stubborn look of denial on the Lieutenant's face, he wasn't going to give up on them just yet.

Hannibal was ordering the RTO to get in contact with Tock and get some gunships out to their location. He knew Murdock would be on his way to make the extraction and should be here any time soon. Unfortunately, the enemy were dug in right between their current position and the LZ. Hannibal wasn't quite sure how they were going to get round them. BA and the remaining Yards would pop their heads up and fire their guns spasmodically in an effort to keep Charlie where they could see them.

Hannibal glanced at Ray enquiringly as to the condition of his casualty, but Ray shook his head sadly as the man took one final gasp of air before losing his fight for life. Face's man had lost consciousness, and now with three of the team down, it was going to be difficult to out-pace and out-smart the enemy.

Face looked totally distraught. He had lost three men almost immediately and the shock was just beginning to sink in.

Hannibal grabbed the radio from the RTO and yelled frantically into the set.

"Hector Three Zero, do you copy!"

Murdock's voice crackled back over the radio.

"Coming through loud and clear, White Lightning."

"Can you give me your ETA?" continued Hannibal.

"5 minutes, Sir," replied Murdock.

"We're on our way but we have 2 KIAs, 1 down and Charlie knocking on the front door!" advised Hannibal. "Stand-by for possible change of co-ordinates."

"Wilco that, White Lightning," responded Murdock.

Hannibal was just about to get back to Tock and ask for a new set of co-ordinates for a possible LZ site, when suddenly he saw Face disappearing over the top of the crater.

"Cover me!" he yelled out to BA as he started to sprint out towards the enemy crater, firing his rifle with pinpoint precision. BA and the Yards all let off a round of fire. Face ran about 150 yards with bullets whizzing past him and then belly-dived to the ground. He delved into his rucksack and pulled out two grenades. He waited for the enemy return fire to cease and then he jumped up, pulled the pin out of one of the pineapples and tossed it a good 50 yards into the crater, quickly doing likewise with the second grenade.

He hit the deck and waited for the imminent explosion. After a few seconds delay the blast erupted and pieces of metal from the outer casing flew outward at a great speed, imbedding itself in anybody and anything within range. Face didn't come away unscathed, as a pieces of shrapnel hit him in the leg and other parts of his body.

With the enemy's line of defence now obliterated, Hannibal ordered his men to evacuate the crater and make a beeline for the LZ.

"Hector Three Zero!" shouted Hannibal into the set, as he and the RTO were the last to leave the crater. "Original co-ordinates good to go – repeat original LZ good to go!"

"Understood, White Lightening!" replied Murdock. "Is it hot?"

"It's so fucking hot we're thinking of having a weenie roast!" screamed back Hannibal sarcastically.

Murdock chuckled at the Colonel's sense of humour but soon became serious again as he heard the familiar crack of AK-47s firing off in the background.

Face in the meantime had crawled precariously towards the enemy crater on his stomach. As he peered over the edge, rifle at the ready, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him.

The VC unit consisted of what Face could only describe as young boys in black pyjamas with sandals on their feet. There were six of them altogether, none of which looked much older than 15 years old. As his eyes were drawn to their bloodied and mutilated bodies, he felt a wave of repulsion well up inside of him. The stark realisation was that none of these boys were going to see their sixteenth birthdays.

He jumped as he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned round to see Hannibal stooping down beside him.

"Come on kid," he said urgently. "Murdock will be here soon."

He pulled Face to his feet and they stumbled after the rest of the team, who were making their way towards the cover of the tree line on the west side of the valley. The LZ was about another 100 yards in a northerly direction and it wasn't long before they could hear the melodic humming of the Huey's rotor blades somewhere in the distance.

The VC who had retreated back into the jungle on the east side of the valley could hear also hear the Huey approaching but couldn't see it. The pilots always flew at tree-top level so the enemy couldn't tell which direction they were coming from.

Then suddenly the Huey dropped out of the sky and made its fast descent to touch down. Its skids bounced a couple of times on the ground before finally coming to a standstill. The team, who were hovering at the edge of the jungle were already running towards it. The aircraft was most vulnerable during landing and take-off and nobody wanted to get caught short!

The VC had finally figured out where the Huey had landed and made a last-ditch attempt to deploy an attack. But by this time the helicopter gunships were circling over the area to cover the team's retreat. They fired off their machine guns and rockets all around the emerging enemy whilst Hannibal, BA and one of the Yards basically shot at anything that moved. The others bolted towards the slick, dragging the dead and wounded with them.

They somehow managed to pile into the Huey in record-breaking time, with Hannibal being the last man in. Murdock made a very hasty and steep ascent which made the Huey shudder loudly under the pressure. The gunner was leaning out of the cargo door - as far as his harness would let him – raking up the ground beneath them with more bullets.

Hannibal gave a heavy sigh of relief as he looked round his team. Unfortunately, the injured Yard who had been hit earlier never gained consciousness, bringing the body count to three. Hannibal's gaze fell upon Face, who was rather reluctantly allowing Ray to tend to his shrapenl wounds.

"That was one hell of a stunt you pulled out there, Lieutenant", he said incredulously. "You probably just saved the lives of the rest of the team!"

Face shrugged indifferently.

"I knew my quarterback training would come in handy one day," he jested. He was referring to his High School days at St Mary's, where he had become an all-city football champion at the age of 16. However, there was no pride or triumph in his voice and his eyes were shrouded with a deep expression of sadness and sorrow.

Not even the Bronze Medal that he and the team would be awarded with when they returned to base could convince him that this had been a deserving victory.


	2. Chapter 2

[**_Note: This chapter was inspired by the Ernest Hemmingway's quote "Courage is grace under fire"._**]

**Chapter 2: Grace under fire**

Face spent a couple days in the Field Hospital recovering from his shrapnel injuries before returning to base at Nha Trang. He would be on light duties for a while, before being sent back into combat.

However, it was evident to everyone in the team that Face had become withdrawn and distant. The loss of the Montagnard tribesmen laid heavy on his conscience. Despite Hannibal's efforts to reassure him that he had done all he could, Face still felt like he had failed his men.

At night his dreams were continually haunted by the faces of the young VC boys he had so mercilessly killed. He would wake up full of remorse and regret, trembling and sobbing violently. Nothing seemed to ease his guilty conscience.

The problem was made worse by the fact that he had gained quite a lot of respect for the enemy. The powers to be had come to the conclusion that the Viet Cong and NVA soldiers were too ignorant to pose any kind of threat to the mighty USA. But these five foot nothing Dinks were kicking Ass big time! They would engage large American patrols in battle, either single-handedly or in very small units and would fight literally until the bitter end.

One evening Murdock had just finished a debriefing session at the FOB Centre and was making his way across the compound, back to his hooch. He stopped suddenly when he saw Face – who appeared to be sitting on top of a crate in the middle of an ammo dump – casually throwing something up in the air with one hand and catching it in the other.

As Murdock drew nearer his eyes opened wide in alarm as he saw that Face was in fact tossing a grenade.

"Wotcha doing, muchacho?" he asked gently, not wanting to startle his friend unnecessary.

Face stopped tossing the grenade and looked round at the sound of Murdock's voice. He didn't really acknowledge that the pilot was there but merely stared straight through him. His eyebrows were knitted together in a foreboding, troubled frown.

"Huh!" he mumbled in reply, his voice void of any feeling or emotion, as he continued to throw the grenade up and down again.

Murdock was rather concerned by the unresponsive manner from the normally fast-talking, charismatic Conman.

"Not a great place to admire the view," continued Murdock, hoping to at least raise some sort of reaction from the agitated young man.

Face caught the pineapple deftly in one hand and started to fiddle with the pin restlessly.

"Have you ever killed anyone in cold blood?" he finally blurted out.

Murdock was rather taken back by the question. He knew Face was referring to the incident with the VC, but he didn't really feel qualified to answer him. As the team's personal pilot he did more flying than actual hand-to-hand combat. Yeah, sure, he carried a .38 pistol in a cowboy style hip holster every time he went up in his Huey. And yeah, he had used it to fight of Charlie Chan in self-defence.

And since joining the A-Team, where Colonel Smith had put him through his paces as a foot soldier, he had become very proficient with an M-16 rifle.

Then of course, there was the time he had spent as a CIA Agent. He had been involved in some very unsavoury tactics that had made his stomach wrench. It was one of the reasons why he had turned down a career in the CIA.

After his transfer to 101 Airborne Division at De Nang, he had flown gunships and fighter airplanes. But somehow the war didn't seem that personal when you're flying at 5,000 feet. At least that's what he told himself whilst he was blasting the enemy to oblivion.

So he knew where Face was coming from. He was a skilled sniper, trained to take out the enemy when under threat or an attack, but it didn't make the killing any easier.

"You were just doing your job, Face," he replied. "It was either them or you and the rest of the team."

Face held up his hands to Murdock, still clutching the grenade, his features becoming twisted and contorted as the tears began to fall down his cheeks.

"I can't get rid of the blood from my hands!" he cried. "No matter how many times I wash them, it's always going to be there!"

"You just did what you had to do," repeated Murdock, beginning to panic as he could feel Face's anguish. "That doesn't make you a killing machine."

"Doesn't it!" snarled back Face angrily. "This isn't what I signed up for. I don't like what I've become."

Murdock wished he could find the right words to console his buddy. God knows he had his own demons to contend with without having to take on Face's. From what the pilot could see, there were no winners in this cesspit of a war. His wandering thoughts were catapulted back to the present when he realised Face was mumbling wildly to himself.

"I'm not sure I can do this anymore," he said in a weary and tired voice. "I just want the killing to stop." He began tapping the top of the grenade nervously with this finger as he continued. "It should be me next. After all I've got nobody waiting for me back home so nobody's going to miss me."

"I'd miss you!" exclaimed Murdock as he took a couple of anxious steps towards Face. "And so would the rest of the team!"

Face shook his head mournfully.

"But I let them down!" he retorted. "Three men died because I didn't do my job properly. Not to mention what I did to those VC kids."

"You can't think like that, Facey!" reproached Murdock. "You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. The eight men who came back with you are living testimony to your leadership. It's what you would call grace under fire, coz there's no greater love than a man who lays down his life for his friends and family. And I guess we're sort of family now, ain't we?"

For a moment Murdock saw a glint of hope flicker through Face's blue-grey eyes as the image of each of his fellow A-Team buddies flashed through his mind.

Murdock was right, they had become a close-knit family. Colonel Smith, leader and master strategist, had encouraged the rather wayward lieutenant to stay on the straight and narrow to achieve his full potential. He had promoted him to second-in-command at a very early stage and genuinely seemed to value Face's opinion and input with the running of their military operations.

2nd Lt Ray Brenner was a veteran soldier whom all the team respected. They would often turn to him when they had gotten themselves into trouble and didn't want Hannibal to know! During Face's first mission out in the field he had fallen over and lost his helmet. Ray had immediately doubled back to help him and gave him his helmet for protection. As BA often said, "Ray Brenner had a heart like I'd never seen".

BA Baracus was the team's burly sergeant and muscle man. He seemed to look upon Face favourably as his little brother. On finding out that he was an orphan, he would fiercely protect the sometimes vulnerable young man from the snide remarks of the other GIs.

Jim "Fitz" Fitzgerald was primarily their RTO man, but actually he could turn his hand to almost anything if the situation was to arise. He had crawled into many a fox hole to tend to the team's battle scars when Ray had been put out of action. Being RTO had its own element of fear, as Charlie liked to take pot shots at the guy holding the antenna, but Fitz would never leave his post, even when under the most frenzied attack.

And last but by no means least, there was Captain Howlin' Mad Murdock, who had become his soul-mate, brother and best buddy all rolled into one. Face had lost count of the times this dinky dau pilot and his crew had flown to their rescue amongst a fury of enemy artillery. With just a chicken plate chest armour for protection, he had skilfully and successfully hauled them out of many a hot LZ.

Face suddenly felt very humbled and privileged to be part of this team. He may have led the way on many occasions out in the field, but it was how _he_ had been led that made the difference. The reason why he managed to do his job so efficiently was because he had the best people around him to make it possible. He felt a sense of pride when he thought how much he was respected and thought of amongst his buddies.

Face got up from the crate and met the pilot's warm, trusting gaze. Murdock held out his hand, encouraging him to let go of the grenade. Face slowly reached out and gave it to him and Murdock placed it carefully back into its box. He put his arm around Face and led him away from the ammo dump.

"Hey!" said Murdock cheerfully, a big goofy grin spreading over his face. "Why don't you come into town with me tonight? I've got a date with one of the nurses from the field hospital. I bet I can get her to bring along that cute little blonde who had the hots for you when you were laid up there!"

Face chuckled, slightly bemused at the role reversal. Usually it was him dragging Murdock out on some blind date - under much duress! Murdock glanced down at his friend and was glad to see the Faceman smiling again.

Now, all the pilot had to do was sort out the demons in his own head …

[**_Thank-you for taking the time to read. Any views, thoughts, criticisms, etc, would be gratefully received._**]

_Now for the technical bit (for anyone who may be interested):_

_Dinky dau: Vietnamese term for crazy.  
__Montagnards (also known as Yards): Indigenous mountain tribes people.  
__VC: Viet Cong.  
__RTO: (Radio telephone operator).  
__Tock (or TOC): Tactical Operations Center.  
__Gunships: Armed helicopters acting as protection for rescue and medevac ships.  
__KIA: killed in action.  
__Charlie: slang for the VC soldiers.  
__Huey: Bell UH-1 Iroquois helicopter used to carry troops or cargo (self-protective).  
__Dinks: Derogatory term for Vietnamese soldiers.  
__LZ: Landing Zone (Hot LZ means one active with enemy fire or expected fire).  
__Slick: Also referred to as Huey.  
FOB: Forward Operations Base._


End file.
